Weaving Through the Lies
by Sinnto
Summary: She's drinking. One drink after another until she finally made her decision to stop with this nonsense. She had enough. Maybe it's the drinks that were giving her the strength to stand up and finally getting the closure she needed.


**I'm pretty sure it's been a while since my normal readers have seen me. And I guess I'm back? Sort of? Either way, here's a fanfiction. This is a short story - but more than one chapter! Enjoy.**

* * *

><p>The sound of the clinking glass could be heard. The female holding its spoon spins it in a circular motion, causing it to hit from side to side. Her head rested on the palm of hand. Her elbow was placed on the bar table. Her back was somewhat hunched over her drink. It was a pitiful image of the female, a female whose smile used to blossom and brighten the day, the girl – now woman – that was someone's happiness, someone's friend.<p>

It wasn't like she was sad at the moment, depressed over some irrelevant thoughts. It was her atmosphere that gave off such an unpleasant feeling. Or rather, and unpleasant image of her. The girl whose strength rivaled males was now deflated, a mere distant memory.

Without a pausing moment, she grabbed the glass in front of her – the same glass she stirred just moments ago – and devoured it within a mouthful. Her eyes closed as her head tipped back. Her cheeks puffed out to fit the amount of liquid that slipped between her lips. When all the bitter liquid was gone from the cup, she slammed the glass lightly down onto the table. It wasn't a loud bang, but it was enough to shake the table a little – again, it was that strength that she seemed to have forgotten.

"Hey, Lil Lady, maybe you should knock off on the drinks," the male in front of her, age approximately 35 or maybe a little older, advised her.

It was the same bartender that she always had. Almost every other Saturday after work, she comes here for a drink. They developed a communication system. They'd say a word or two. He'd know what type of drink to get her. She sat back and drank it without complaint, then gives him the money, plus extra tips than what normal people would give. To her, he is her savior for these dark nights.

Her eyes, already somewhat glazed, moved toward his face. The male was blonde, much like most of the people in this country – so different from her own. Her eyes met his striking blue eyes that seemed to stand out in contrast to the dark setting. Her bartender had a small growing mustache coming, probably because he shaved in the morning and it was now nearing midnight. He was wearing an apron, jeans, and a T-shirt. It wasn't anything different.

"No," her voice croaked, "I need this tonight."

The bartender's eyes sadden, as if he noticed her state. Her supposedly "bright" hair was tussled and out of place, instead of its near ponytail, bun, or curls. Her usual professional manner and dress was nowhere to be seen, except for her slacks. She was in a tank and a worn out zip-up jacket that was possibly two sizes too big for her. Her feet were hidden by sneakers instead of heels or slippers. Her eyes… her eyes were red, puffy, and glassy. Her image was ruined.

"One more," the bartender's gruff voice announced, "Then you deal with this another way. You can't deal everything with alcohol."

Sakura's head fell down as if it was heavy. But it resembled a nod. So the blue-eyed male turned around and started mixing a drink for his top customer. He didn't bother to put that much alcohol in. Enough for those who were drunk enough – maybe even depressed enough – to taste the tinge bitterness, yet not enough to be affective. Something that most bartenders learn to earn more profit.

He slides her drink towards her. Her head is still down, but when the drink stops right in front of her, her head slowly pulls back up, almost mechanically. Her hand is shaking as she reaches her last glass. She slowly lifts it up to her mouth this time and drinks it sip by sip.

Before she can finish her drink, she feels something pushing its way up her throat. Vomit. It wasn't much, probably a dime worth. But the sour taste is in her mouth when it reaches the opening. She hacked it out of her throat onto a piece of napkin. She couldn't even stop her face from showing her disgusted expression.

He was right. What was she doing here? She shouldn't do this. She had done this way too many times. Well, not _too_ many times, seeing this was the first legitimate time that she had done this. But doing this to her mind and body. She was sick of it all.

Perhaps it was the alcohol that made her restless, angry, and depressed. No, she was sure that alcohol played a great role to it. Her body was shaking with emotions. Many different emotions. It all rushed through her at once.

_The last time!_ She declared.

Without a warning, she stood up abruptly and stumbled, only to regain her balance a moment later. One of her hand held onto the bar table to keep her balance. Her vision was blurry, but not spinning, which she was glad for. She took deep breaths in and out for moments. When she finally decided she was well enough to walk, she pulled money out of her pocket and threw it on the table without really noticing how much she had left.

And the woman marched out of the dark bar with music playing in the background. She didn't acquire any attention as she exit through the door, still stumbling here and there. It was too normal for someone to leave when they were drunk. Even the bartender didn't bother to stop her when he realized she gave ten dollars short on the drinks. He supposed her regular tips were fine enough to cover for a few more times.

Her body exit the warmth of the bar and the wind slammed against her as she stood outside. The brisk cold wind made her focus a little bit better, but her mind was still under some influence. What she was about to do is something she wouldn't do ever. But after ten drinks… more than ten… she lost track, she suppose nothing could really stop her now.

Sakura marched up the street to where she knew they were. They were in their little cozy place. They left her behind to enter _this_ type of life. To be with their parents that she thought they never had. To be with their other ones and not with her. Not to share their happiness with her. The happiness she used to share with them every day.

Enough was enough. Sakura was determined. And so, her feet led her up the hill that the small but high quality theatre was at. She got closer and closer… until she noticed the shadow figures coming out of the building. The only word that crossed her mind was, _perfect_.

Perfect timing it was. They were getting out of the theatre after possibly finishing a movie. She hears their laughter and spoken words. That only raised her anger higher. Her speed increased faster and faster until she was almost speed walking. They still didn't notice her – they were too lost in their own happy world. The happy world that used to include _her_.

She was close enough to be in front of them now. They still didn't recognize her, she supposed. They glanced at her but then turned back to the person that is talking, or the audience. They should be able to see her now. They were a few feet away. She had stopped walking toward them.

They walked and walked. Maybe it was because of the dim light, it made her colorful hair colorless. They made her bright green eyes dull down to a grey green. Maybe she turned into a black and white image as they walked past, carefully avoiding her, yet still continuing on with their conversation.

Sakura's mind raged. She breathed heavily up and down. Tears sprung to her eyes and stung it. Her hands clenched into fists, and she turned abruptly around. Her wet eyes narrowed at the group. They were getting further and further away.

_No. Not this time_, she decided.

Sakura opens her mouth – the loud mouth she was ever so infamous for – to screech, "You're all fucking assholes!"

The blonde that was talking – _Naruto_, she thought – stopped and turned around, with his loud mouth already opened and said, "Who do you –"

The words got cut off in his throat as he looked at the a few feet away from him, the same girl that he didn't pay much attention back when he passed her.

It was like Sakura's color came back to the real world – towards those who see her. Naruto finally recognized the wide forehead, the bright pink hair that was a lush pink under the lamp's light. And the green eyes that _should be lively._ He knew who the female was, yet she was so different that words and air were stuck in the back of his throat.

The male companion next to him frowned and tilted his head slight to look at the blonde who paused to ask, "Hey, what are you –"

Like Naruto, he wasn't able to finish his sentence, but because of a completely different reason. Naruto had interrupted him, "Sakura-chan!"

The name made everyone stiffen. Sakura muses. Their conversation stopped and they whipped their head back towards her. Everyone but the female with the brown hair, black at night, that's clutching onto the stiffest male there.

Their eyes reached hers. She didn't know whose to look at. She finally decided it would be on _him_. Sasuke. The male who didn't bother to look at her in the eyes.

Her body shook hard as she tried to contain herself. It was useless. She took a few long strides towards the male, her fist pulled back, and within seconds, Sasuke was clutching his cheeks and the brunette besides him screeched.

Sakura couldn't bring herself to careless.

And apparently everyone else around him was speechless.

"_How dare you?_" Sakura hissed, "What is wrong with you? You… you…."

She couldn't bring herself express herself. She was so frustrated, tired, and drunk.

Sakura took her finger and stabbed him the chest, causing him to move back a bit. She opened her mouth, her eyes were blurred and not focused, "Since we didn't have a real _closure_. I suppose we should have one now, Uchiha! You're an asshole and it's _through_."

His eyes widened comically. If it was another situation, another place, another time, maybe she would've laughed at it – possibly because it was the first time she had seen his mask been broken down. But she couldn't. Not now, and possibly not ever.

She whips her body around and started walking in the opposite direction of where they are standing. But the alcohol is starting to take a toll on her as she stumbled, unable to keep her balance. Her legs gave out on her. She falls forward, ready to hit the ground. But her eyes already closed, the air already left her lungs, and she smacks the ground.

But before she did, she heard a distance yell, "Sakura!"


End file.
